


Fury

by cosmicbubble



Category: Fighter of the Destiny
Genre: Hatesex, M/M, Plot What Plot, Rough Sex, what even is this I don't know anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12183084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicbubble/pseuds/cosmicbubble
Summary: Ya'er has always hated Changsheng, but now he's thinking about that anger a little differently.





	Fury

**Author's Note:**

> DONT LOOK AT ME I LIKE SIN
> 
> Anyway hope y'all enjoy! I will write something cute for this series later!

Chen Changsheng. Chen Changsheng.

The name drips of poison, staining his lips and sending a fire through his veins - and though it aches and burns terribly, the studious boy is all he can think of.

“Lord Ya’er,” a guard interrupts his train of thought and his hand, originally positioned to keep his head from drooping down, urges the stammering guard forward.

He takes a moment before he says, “Chen Changsheng has escaped again. Our traps were perfectly placed, but it seems as though he's outsmarted them.”

“No,” Ya’er scoffs, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes, “My subordinates are simply irresponsible and can't seem to capture the smallest lamb. I'll be the one to take care of it this time.”

It of course, would be Chen Changsheng. Young, brilliant principal of Guojiao Academy and ever-present thorn in his side. His lungs fill with anger at the thought of him. Long hair, blue robes, a small smile toying on the edge of his lips - everything about him is so terribly plain, and yet he wriggles his way out of traps and difficulties without breaking a sweat or breaking the first layer of his skin. And Ya’er dreams of seeing him bleed.

He wants Changsheng to hurt, and he wants him to enjoy it just as much.

The guard leaves the room, leaving the nephew to the Empress alone to his thoughts. And his thoughts are drifting to their battle - the imperial examination, the cloth blindfold around his eyes, and the sheer rush that pulses through his system as he battled against Changsheng. That stupid, pretty boy - and yet it ended in his own loss.

He drifts away to sleep, thinking about the fire in Changsheng’s eyes afterwards and the feeling that Ya’er’s feelings may just be reciprocated. That perhaps, though he doesn't show it, Changsheng may hate him just as much.

_The feeling of Changsheng’s lips, plush and warm, against his own is exhilarating. He's fighting against it and the grip Ya’er has on the back of his delicate neck is bruising, but Ya’er is far past the point of kindness now. He feels Changsheng move in his grip, though he's not so much pulling away as he's bringing him closer. Changsheng tries to wrap his arms around Ya’er, though the other man pulls away._

_“You're not touching me,” Ya’er growls, tugging on Changsheng’s thick, black hair. The principal groans, but makes no effort to move. He's panting now, breath coming out loudly and Ya’er takes pride in it - a smirk blooming as he gazes upon Changsheng’s red and swollen lips. “I'm going to stay in control of this situation. You've given me hell since the day you've arrived in Shendu, and I'm not letting you get away.”_

_“Same goes for you,” Changsheng pants, taking a step towards the man of royalty. He's similar in height to Ya’er, but a frailer stature, and Ya’er thinks of how great it would feel to watch him break underneath him._

_He presses his hands against Changsheng’s shoulder, shoving him down to the floor beneath his feet - the bed just a few steps away is much too comfortable for someone like Changsheng, anyway. It's not meant to be pleasant- this is meant to hurt, just like their relationship. Changsheng has hurt him over and over, taken stabs into his pride while handing defeat after defeat, and Ya’er intends to give every feeling back to him._

_With Changsheng pressed against the floor, it doesn't take much. He pulls at his robes, taking in the sight of Changsheng without blemishes, save for the silver line running up his arm. He thinks about what the skin will look like when he's all finished - the bruises and marks that will litter his skin. A shiver runs through his spine at the thought. Changsheng shifts, rustling the sleeves of his robe from his arms and takes to removing his pants as well, though Ya’er quickly stops him with an unconventional method - he attaches his lips to Changsheng’s neck and bites down._

_Changsheng groans, hands coming up to rest themselves in Ya’er’s hair, tugging gently. Ya’er doesn't make the effort to correct him, because he's going to make sure Changsheng feels it even more intensely later - he'll need something to hold onto by that point._

_He presses his way down Changsheng’s body, leaving marks with his teeth against his collarbone, his chest, before biting down on a tender nipple. Changsheng whines and moves his hands from his hair to Ya’er’s clothes, harshly tugging on the fabric as though yearning to rip it apart._

_Ya’er pulls away and snaps, “What are you intending to do? You read this fabric, and your life wouldn't even be enough to pay for it.” His statement is emphasized with a harsh slap to Changsheng’s cheek, enough to push his face against the cold floor. He grimaces, though he makes no attempt to console his aching skin._

_“If I'm to be without clothes,” Changsheng says, staring straight at Ya’er, “then it's only fair you're without clothes too.”_

_Ya’er doesn't want to take a moment’s pause, but he groans, “If this will get you to shut up,” before he sheds himself of his own clothing. Now, when he presses up against Changsheng, his bare skin feels sparks against the other man’s, the warmth almost too much to bare. Changsheng has smooth skin, soft to the touch and it takes everything Ya’er has to remain focused on his goal._

_He grinds down against Changsheng, erections rubbing together and that certainly gets a reaction from the usually calm principal. Changsheng’s taken his bottom lip in, pressing his teeth against it and Ya’er resists the urge to scoff - he's already splayed out like this, all secrets exposed to the cooling air around them, and he's nervous about some sounds?_

_He chooses not to comment, and instead repeats the motion, pressing down against Changsheng. Ya’er would be lying to himself if he said he's not aroused by this, by the picture of Changsheng helpless beneath him, and so he presses on._

_“You seem to be enjoying this,” Ya’er hisses, rolling his hips once more against Changsheng. The other man moans, muddled through his lips, and Ya’er repeats the motion again. “You always struck me as a tight-ass, in more ways than one. You have princesses and saintesses fawning over you, and the son of an affluent business as your closest companion, yet you don't take advantage of anything. You must be so boring to them.”_

_Changsheng shifts beneath Ya’er but he doesn't let him move far. With a tight grip against Changsheng’s arm while the other keeps him up. Ya’er continues, “And that's precisely what I hate about you. You're given everything you could possibly want - and yet you do nothing with it. What kind of man are you?”_

_“I don't toy with people,” Changsheng bites back, pulling against Ya’er’s iron grip to no avail. “That's why you'll never be more than the nephew of the Empress, the one she bends the rules for because he can't stand on his own two feet!”_

_He's had enough now; he's had enough of hearing Changsheng speak, of hearing him talk down on his character - whether it's true or not, Ya’er is done. The other man is going to get what's coming to him, and it's going to be nice and painful._

_He thinks that's what Changsheng prefers, even._

_Ya’er’s grip shifts from Changsheng’s arm to his neck, pressing at just the right spot that causes the other boy to cough, panic filling his eyes as he realizes his air is being restricted. He isn't sure what he wants, what kind of reaction he hopes to get from the man under him, but Changsheng remains ever calm._

_He presses his lips against Changsheng’s again, bruising intent behind every movement. Changsheng is both pushing against him and pulling him in, shifting in just the right way to allow him in deeper._

_When he pulls apart, he removes the hand from his neck as Ya’er snaps, “When you were sentenced to death, I wish luck had not fallen on your side.”_

_Changsheng doesn't respond. There's nothing to say at this point - instead, he merely takes in another shaky breath. Ya’er certainly takes this as an opportunity._

_It's awkward as the member of royalty wraps his hand in Changsheng’s hair, forcing the other man’s head up as he breathes, “Now, I can be nice and let you suck me, or we can do this the hard and rough way with nothing for lubricant. What's it going to be?”_

_Usually so full of fire, of rebellion against everything, Changsheng is suddenly quiet. He follows compliantly, almost robotically, as he moves to stand on his knees. Ya'er is standing now, hand ever present in Changsheng’s long hair, curling his fingers tightly around the strands._

_And he's beautiful like this, Ya’er can't help but think. His lips are stretched around his aching cock, eyes clenched tightly shut, and blush on his cheeks and even the tips of his ears. The feeling - that feeling of dominating someone so wholly - spurs him on even further, thrusting into Changsheng's mouth. Comfort be damned, it feels too good._

_But he can't let it end like this - it would be far too soon, and there's so much fun to be had._

_He's certainly not gentle when he pulls out from Changsheng’s mouth, pushing the other man down onto the ground, using his knees and elbows to keep himself upright. But Changsheng doesn't complain; barely a noise of discomfort leaves his lips, and Ya’er wants to hear even more of it._

_Ya’er is none too gentle as he presses a finger, barely slicked with his own spit, against Changsheng’s entrance. He presses in and nearly groans at the feeling surrounding just his finger, and his mind wanders to what it will feel like when he's fully sheathed inside of the smaller man. A shaking breath leaves Changsheng’s lips, and Ya’er only knows he wants more._

_Another finger presses inside of Changsheng and this time, he's letting out a whine. The initial penetration is none too comfortable, and Ya’er has no intention of making it feel easier. Instead, he begins to thrust his fingers inside of him, relishing in the noises that are coming from the man beneath him._

_“You want to hide it,” Ya’er sneers, “But secretly, you love this, don't you? You wish someone at that academy of yours would do this to you. Well, now you have me.”_

_His fingers are removed and Ya’er hears Changsheng sigh, though he knows there's more to come. Ya’er has a bruising grip on his hips as he presses himself against Changsheng, beginning to push the swelled head of his cock inside._

_Changsheng’s vocal now, groaning loudly as he tries to shift to get more comfortable. Ya’er doesn't let him - this isn't supposed to be comforting and sweet, he tells himself._

_As Ya’er begins to thrust harshly, setting a painful rhythm, Changsheng begins to moan - and it begins to sound like a thrilling mixture of pain and pleasure that has Ya’er moving even faster. His fingers leave bruises against Changsheng’s hips, but it doesn't matter now - all either are focused on is the pleasure surging through their bodies. Changsheng even begins to respond, moving his hips in time with Ya’er as best he can and moaning loudly when Ya’er is certain he's hit that spot inside of him. He's always known Changsheng would like things in the bedroom a little rough. He smirks._

_Ya’er doesn't touch Changsheng - not when this is all about his own pleasure - but it doesn't matter much, anyway, as he comes untouched. He moans loudly, pressing his hips back against Ya’er as he spills against the floor beneath them. His body pricks with overstimulation, because Ya’er isn't quite finished yet._

_Changsheng is so tight around him, so warm and everything feels so good that even when he comes, tightening around Ya’er, he doesn't want it to end. But he's close and that little bit more friction is just enough to send him over the edge and he's coming, spilling inside of Changsheng._

_As he pulls out, he shoves Changsheng to the ground. He hits the floor with a slight thud, though he doesn't bother to attempt to pull himself back up again. His chest rises and falls with heavy pants and his eyes are lidded, falling to the desire of slipping out of the world for just a little bit._

_Ya’er scoffs, “You're the worst thing that's happened to this city. To my life. And yet, I don't know, perhaps you're worth something after all.”_

_Everything fades to black._

Changsheng awakens with a start, chest heaving with pants. Sweat trickles down his forehead and he grips the sheet above him to ground himself back to reality.

He closes his eyes just for a moment again, thinking back on the dream - how angry and how raw. But even with those emotions, and Changsheng feels embarrassed even thinking about it, he found it arousing and pleasurable.

As he sits up and looks around his room, he can already hear the signs of the day beginning. His friends are actively roaming the academy, and it's not long before he has to face them - whether he's come to terms with his dream or not.

They never have to know, Changsheng thinks to himself as he gets up from his bed and begins to dress for the day. He makes sure to douse his face in the cold water from the bowl in his room.

It's a secret all for himself - and not even Ya’er will know just what the dream means for him.

 

 


End file.
